By CherylR

June 10, 2004

This story idea came to me this morning when I woke up. It was spurred on by watching Nancy Reagan at the State Funeral yesterday. Watching her gently run her hands over the flag draped casket and talk to her husband one last time… just thinking about it brings tears to my eyes. Warning major character death.

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The echoes of the twenty one gun salute followed by taps brought a series of shivers down the solemn man’s back. He quickly glanced around to make sure that no one noticed. He’d tried so hard to remain dignified and in control on this long, sad, overwhelming day. He owed it to his partner and their friends.

He shuddered again and bore down hard on his emotions. I can do this. I can do this. I can do this. Those words and others like them had become his mantra for the day. Just a little longer and then I can go back to the loft and collapse.

Why am I having so much trouble today? It’s not like he hasn’t been gone for weeks now. I guess it’s because it’s so final now. No possible hope of a miracle anymore. I followed his wishes… He wanted all his organs donated and then… cremation. Not sure why they even bothered with a casket. Except I guess it would look a little silly to drape a flag over an urn. That irreverent thought shocked the man and the tears that he’d been fighting so hard for so long finally started to fall.

From time to time the mind needs a break before the reality of a situation becomes too much for it.

So he escaped back to thoughts of better times. Fishing with his partner and Simon… Camping, just the two of them… Long stakeouts in the truck talking about everything under the sun… Waking up in the hospital without his partner at his side… trying to deal with a concussion and a bullet wound on top of the pain meds he’d been pumped full of… Trying to understand the meaning of the words 'irreparable brain damage' and how that could have any meaning in relationship to his partner…

His mind slammed fully back into the present. He didn’t want to go back over the last several weeks. The pain of watching his friend’s body slowly start to shut down a little at a time. The heart-breaking, soul-wrenching decision to finally let him go and agree to turn off the machines. To give the other half of his soul the peace it so very much deserved. Oh God, I miss him so. Why couldn’t we make the connection in the jungle like we used to? I just wanted to talk to him one last time before he left. Was that too much to ask?

His thoughts were interrupted by a touch on his arm from Captain Banks. He looked up into those solemn brown eyes and then around at the other officers from Major Crimes. He knew that his friends were almost as sad as he was. "It’s time?" he asked.

"It’s time," Banks agreed. Simon started to say something else… paused and started again, "Take all the time you need, we’re in no hurry here."

"Thanks," he managed to get out. He slowly walked up to the flag draped casket and gently ran his hands back and forth over it. He stood there for a minute as he tried to regain his composure and then he leaned down and whispered. "I miss you so much already… But I remember our promise… I won’t try to follow after you too quickly. I’m so sorry that our time together on earth was cut short… and I love you… always." He turned and walked back into the sea of police officers and watched as one by one others went up to pay their respects one last time.

The end.

I’m sorry for all the pronouns. I have no idea who was who… my muse didn’t think it was important enough to tell me.

Feedback is appreciated. Cheryl

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